Another good week ended with a gorgeous Sunday in the backyard. The boys bouncing in the jumpy house, Lenny and I taking in some sun. I not only got a bit of color (went from transparent to white), I got some lovely heat-induced cankles and sausage fingers (so please excuse any fat-fingered typos).
Lesson #1: If you’re concerned about having a second child because you’re worried about your first and his/her role in the family, I can assure you it will still be a very valuable one: Translator. Big should seriously be charging us for his services. The better Little’s vocabulary becomes, the more we lean on Big to help us figure out what he’s saying.
Lesson #2: When your 2-year old is obsessed with hiding from bad guys and asking if Daddy will fight them, trying to avoid superhero games may not be the solution. I overheard this conversation between our nanny and the boys the other day (not that I’m spying, our house is just really, really small).
Nanny: “Hey guys, let’s not play superheroes and bad guys because Little is getting scared a lot lately.”
Big: “Ok! We’ll play animals. Little and I will be lions and you can be the zebra.”
Lesson #3: While ‘out of sight, out of mind’ seems to apply to kids with most things, I’m afraid it doesn’t apply to me and Easter candy. Heck, what’s a few more pounds at this point?
Lesson #4: One of the hardest things about bed rest has been trying to ignore my nesting instincts. (Especially as the house blows up around me.) Which leads me to…
Lesson #5: When the doctor says you can start to do “a few more things around the house”, she probably doesn’t mean spending 8 hours cleaning out drawers and closets. At least that’s what I’m guessing after seeing my shockingly swollen ankles, knees (who knew your knees could swell up?!) and belly last night. (Though the belly swelling was more likely due to Lesson #3…and being 36 weeks pregnant.)
Here’s to knowing your value, creative problem-solving, living the sweet life, letting go and letting yourself go wild!
Photo from Flickr by Chippylibrarian. (Though extremely representative of what the floor in our playroom looks like these days.)